


There's Nothing Nice About This

by 12d3cyborgoo



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2D hurts so pretty, Blood, Dubious Consent, Force-Feeding, Handcuffs, I love 2d so much why do i hurt him, I write short chapters im sorry, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Isolation, M/M, Self Harm, Starvation, Stockholm Syndrome, Stu and cyborg have a budding friendship, Suicidal Thoughts, i write in a weird way okay, im fucked up that i thought to write this, murdoc is fucked up, plastic beach era, poor 2D, prose?, what plot?, wtf is this that i wrote dont hurt me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-15 01:45:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15402240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/12d3cyborgoo/pseuds/12d3cyborgoo
Summary: Just a little warning, I think this is a bit fucked up not gunna lie.There is force feeding and bad words and name calling and stuff.Also sort of mentions of vomit.Either way, I hope you enjoy this wild ride.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little warning, I think this is a bit fucked up not gunna lie.  
> There is force feeding and bad words and name calling and stuff.  
> Also sort of mentions of vomit.  
> Either way, I hope you enjoy this wild ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit - Added spacing

He stared out of the small round window, watching the morose blue deepen until it fell into darkness below him. At least that’s what he could see from his angle. Up above, the sun shone brightly and refracted through the water, dancing over his face in wispy patterns. A lone fish flew past the window, bright and red with black beady eyes just like his own. His gaunt hand glided across the window, following the trail the fish left behind. The glass and metal creaked and groaned under the pressure and he removed his hand just as quick as he had placed it there in fear it would all collapse and burst in shards of metal and plastic. To be honest, however, thinking about death made him feel warm inside. Maybe he would finally be free then.  


The whale wasn’t around at the moment, but he knew it would be back… it always came back to stare at him. Instead there was the imposter, the girl of wires and whirs staring into the back of his head with such intensity he felt his hair singe. His hand scratched the back of his neck, the tangled blue hair perfectly fine apart from it being a bird’s nest. He took his gaze away from the window; a dark luminous shadow out in the distance was drawing closer and closer, as he pulled the blind shut.  
There was a low moan that shuddered through the room, the creaks and groans got louder too. The imposter sent out a series of clicks and beeps, her gun pointed into the small of his back.  


A tear formed in his eye as he turned around to look at her. It wasn’t her, it wasn’t her. He missed her so much. His little sister.  
The gun was sharply jabbed into his back, bruising almost immediately, as he was forced to walk away from the window and through the mess that was his room. Stacks of books knocked over and gathering dust, shattered vinyl’s cutting into his feet and torn clothes with no use anymore. He knew where he was going, he didn’t want to go, he didn’t want to go but the fear was too strong as he walked almost as robotically as the imposter. She was called Noodle. That’s what Murdoc called her, that’s what Murdoc had kept calling her. She wasn’t Noodle. She wasn’t. She never will be Noodle.  


He wanted to cry, he wanted to sob and scream and punch something. But he trudged into the hallway and towards the elevator. His nervous hands played with the rips and tears in his jeans, if you could call them jeans now… they were just dirty fabric that hid his shrinking figure. Offering no protection. No protection from the man upstairs.  


He was cold.  


So very, very cold.  


He wished he had grabbed a jacket before leaving his room, but being cold was better than angering the fake Noodle.  


Being cold meant he felt something other than sadness.  


Being cold meant he felt something other than the fear.  


Being cold meant he felt something other than the hunger.  


The hunger hurt. It wasn’t just an ache in his tummy. It was a full body pain as he felt his insides slowly get eaten up, as his bones weakened and his muscle fell away until he was nothing. Not a day goes by when he dreamt about a nice roast dinner. Or something sweet just like chocolate.  


The grumble was a punch in his gut as he almost doubled over in pain. Don’t think about food, he thought. You’ll be in more pain… think about being cold instead.  


He shivered again.  


The elevator went up to the main floor. The ding echoed in his wasted brain, his eyes scrunched shut from the pain. The gun jabbed him again and he was moving again, out into the hallway where images of the band lined the walls. Some framed magazines, some Polaroid’s of better times and general candid shots. His eyes fell on one image, presumably taken by Russel where he and Noodle sat drawing on bits of scrap paper with those special crayons Murdoc bought for her that one time. In the corner of the image was where that man was, a fag between his fingers while he watched the two with a smile on his face.  


Better days.  


Better times.  


The kitchen was up ahead and he could swear he smelt his mums home cooking wafting from the door. But that would be nice wouldn’t it? There is nothing nice about this place at all.  


Nothing nice about his room.  


Nothing nice about that whale.  


Nothing nice about the imposter that took the form of his sister.  


Nothing nice about the man who stayed upstairs.  


But when he ambled through the door, his head swimming with thoughts about food and hunger and food he stopped dead in his tracks, looking over to the oven where stood Murdoc, fussing about with pots and pans and spoons and forks and plates. The gun in his back threatened to break his skin as the cyborg whistled about a beep and Murdoc turned on his heel, a fag hanging out the corner of his mouth. He smiled.  


He smiled that sly smile, the one that looks like he’s got something up his sleeve.  


There’s nothing nice about this place at all.  


One wrong move and he knew he would be hurting for the next few days, week’s maybe.  


“2-D!” He bellowed, throwing out his arms and stomping over the singer. 2-D, visibly shrank when the Satanist pulled him into a hug. He could smell the alcohol a mile away. Murdoc retracted, looking into those dark eyes as he brought up a hand to 2-D’s sunken cheek.  


“You need to eat” He slurred. He needed to eat, yes. But Murdoc was the one who had starved him for the last 3 days. He could only manage a nod and even that motion almost caused him to fall over. Murdoc barked out an order to the Cyborg and she removed her gun and took post at the door. Then he grabbed the fragile singer by the shoulders and sat him down at the round table in the middle of the room. It was covered in a white cloth and adorned with cutlery and a basket of bread sticks. 2-D eyed them, his eyes feeling glossy.  


Murdoc’s long nails scratched through the fabric of 2-D’s torn tank top and goose bumps rose on the singers pale skin.“You need new clothes…” He muttered and pulled his nail easily through the thin fabric, tearing it even more. “Take it off”  


The singers mind was elsewhere as he automatically removed the torn garment, revealing his sickly body, covered in scars and bruises and welts and who else knows. In the time 2-D had managed to do this Murdoc had disappeared from the kitchen and was back at light speed, throwing the singer a thick jumper.  


“Put that on, I don’t want you to get sick, I need your voice remember?” And 2-D slowly pulled it over his head, his muscles screaming at him in pain as he did so.  


“You aren’t very talkative today” Murdoc grumbled, watching the singer struggle to put the jumper on. 2-D heard the change in tone and as he popped his head through the top he spoke out in a panicked voice.  


“No.. I.. I’m sorry, it’s… good to see you Mudz, really, how are you?” It was stuttered and a mess but he got a smile from the bassist.  


“I’m very well, thank you” He didn’t bother asking how the singer was, he knew how he was by looking at the state of him. He took a seat opposite the singer and reached into the basket of bread sticks. He pulled one out slowly, watching how the singer was mesmerised by it. Then he shoved it towards him, earning a flinch which Murdoc snickered at.  


“Eat it” He whispered and 2-D went to go take the stick with his hand but Murdoc pulled it back. “No, just use your mouth”  


The singer froze and stared into Murdoc’s eyes, disbelief on his features.  


There’s nothing nice about this place at all.  


“Uhm…” 2-D started but Murdoc growled.  


“Are you hungry or not!” He raised his voice and 2-D slunk back in his seat and nodded quickly, feeling his stomach twist and turn and do all sorts of flips and tricks. He gulped and leaned back forward where Murdoc was now holding out the stick and he took a bite from it. It was bland, but it was food and he really, really needed food.  


“Good boy” Murdoc whispered, a smile tracing his features as the singer carried on eating the stick until it was all gone. When Murdoc had not removed his hand from in front of 2-Ds face the singer was initially confused, but then he saw the remaining crumbs on the bassist’s fingers.  


“Murdoc, no… that’s just… weird” The singer tried to speak but Murdoc growled and forced the fingers into the 2-D’s mouth, scraping past the gum of where his front teeth should be. His tongue was trying to push them out as he lifted a hand to grab onto the wrist of the bassist but Murdoc’s other hand gripped the singers wrist and twisted it, causing 2-D to cry out and then allowing Murdoc’s fingers to fall almost down his throat.  


“Mhh… Muhhdds….” He gagged and Murdoc withdrew his hand, looking pleased with himself.  


There’s nothing nice at all.  


2-D wiped the dribble from his chin away, tears welling in his eyes. He could taste the bassist’s dirty hands still and he felt sick almost immediately.  


“Why….” 2-D breathed and suddenly the oven beeped. Murdoc simply ignored him and began to prepare the food onto 2 plates. 2-D watched him as he dumped meat and veggies onto the plates and his stomach flew inside of him. Maybe he could put up with this just so he could eat properly for once.  


He was so terribly hungry.  


At least he wasn’t cold anymore, he was grateful for the jumper, even if it did stink of alcohol and cigarettes and lube and god knows what else.  


Murdoc dumped a plate in front of the singer and he felt his eyes bulge with excitement. There was a lot of food there. Maybe more than what he had eaten in the past week put together. Then Murdoc pulled his chair around, so he was sat next to the singer with their legs touching.  


“You’re going to eat this entire meal, okay” Murdoc grunted out as he quickly took a swig of rum from a bottle he had brought over. His food was still sat on the countertop, slowly getting cold.  


“Wait, aren’t you eating with me?” 2-D managed out after swallowing thickly. Murdoc gave him a side smile and his eyes flashed with devilry.  


“I’ll eat after you, but first, you need to eat more than me” He pointed to his belly and patted it and then ran his hand down 2-D’s side, feeling the ribs through the itchy fabric. 2-D flinched away a little and Murdoc paused for a brief moment before carrying on and gently lifting up the jumper to reveal those bruises again. He pressed a sharp nail into a deep purple one that was painted on his hip. The singer cried out, placing his hands on Murdoc and feebly trying to push him away.  


Murdoc tutted “If you’re going to try to fight me, I’ll have to use different measures” and his hand glided to his belt where a pair of handcuffs were clipped. 2-D winced and swallowed again as Murdoc pressed another bruise.  


There’s. Nothing. Nice. About. This. Place. At. All.  


“They match your hair” He whispered before finally removing his hand and picking up a wedge of meat from the plate and pushing it into 2-D’s mouth. The singer cried out at the sudden force and almost spat the food back out.  


“No spitting, I fucking cooked this for you dullard” The green man hissed and scooped up another wedge of meat and forced it into the singer’s mouth. Tears fell from is eyes as he tried to chew as quickly as possible before another piece was shoved in.  


“Muds, nohh… mhhwaitt” 2-D spoke with his mouth full and pushed away the hand as he tried desperately to breathe through his nostrils. Murdoc growled lowly and shoved another bit into the singer’s mouth; he then grabbed for the hand cuffs and clipped them around each rest and part of the chair behind 2-D’s back so he couldn’t use his hands anymore.  


“What did I say?” He muttered, taking another swig from his bottle while eyeing up the crying singer.  


“I’m.. sowryh…” 2-D dribbled, snot mixing with tears and food that rested on his chin.  


“Look at the state of you” Murdoc hissed and reached for a napkin, rubbing away the extra food and snot. “You haven’t even eaten a quarter yet and you’re a fucking baby that’s what you are!”  


The thought of the food getting thrown away made 2-D visibly jump. He was still so hungry… if he could just get by this then he wouldn’t be hungry for a while… if only Murdoc made it easier and not so dehumanising.  


The singer breathed in deep breaths and Murdoc scooped up some more food, this time he was slower and instead of shoving it into 2-Ds mouth he let it stay on his fingers just in front of the singer.  


“Eat it or you won’t eat for the next 3 days again” And that was when 2-D remembered this had happened before. He had refused to lick the food from Murdoc’s fingers, which had resulted in being beaten up and starved for those 3 days. 2-D sighed, tears still falling down his messy face as he licked the food off of Murdoc’s fingers, earning a grunt from the other man.  


There’s nothing nice about him.  


“Good, good… keep it up…”  


It was when they had hit ¾ of the plate when 2-D’s stomach was threatening to regurgitate all the food he had just consumed. He was suddenly so full and you could see where his stomach bulged through the jumper.  


“Murdoc… please, can we stop now” The singer panted, his body convulsing. “I think… I’m going to be sick… I don’t know... I can’t eat anymore”  


“What do you mean you can’t eat anymore? I cooked this for you so you better fucking eat it!”  


“Please… no more… I’ll do anything… please…”  


Murdoc wiped the food on his fingers down the front of the jumper and sighed. He stood up and unlocked the cuffs. He then grabbed his bottle and walked towards the exit of kitchen.  


“You can clean this up” He gestured to the entire kitchen. “I want it spotless”  


There was nothing nice about this place at all.  


There was nothing nice about that man.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood, Self Harm.

The cards fluttered down onto the table as he jumped up with a cry of joy. Two of the other bandmates had laughed heartily while 4th glared and took a long drag on his cigarette.  


“I won!” 2-D called and started dancing on the spot, Noodle jumped up and gave him a hug, she barely even stood up to his hip and he gave her a quick pat on the head with a giggle, and Russel high fived the blue-haired singer. The other man gritted his teeth, his eyes studying the joy painted across 2-D’s face. He pushed himself up, his fag dropping onto the carpeted floor as he did and the heel of his boot crushed it. He sauntered around towards the singer, placing his large hand onto 2-D’s shoulder, giving it a rough squeeze. The singer winced and gulped.  


“Well done, dullard” Murdoc hissed into his ear, the stench of sour cigarettes and alcohol invading the singer’s nose. 2-D nodded quickly and thanked him, hoping he’d let go of his shoulder soon.  


With a sharp squeeze again he felt those sharp nails bite into his skin, he could feel the blood bubble and begin to stain his shirt.  


And that was when he realised Russel and Noodle weren’t there anymore.  


That was when he was pushed down onto the bed and he saw red in his eyes and pain racked his body.  


And then he woke up.  


Alone.  


He couldn’t tell if it was night time or if it was just stormy out. The island shuddered every now and then against the waves and when the whale scraped close against the window. The black eye stared at him curiously and a deep moan agonised the singer’s brain. But 2-D only stared back, frozen in fear as the whale simply watched him.  


Was that whale lonely too?  


And then the whale moved on and 2-D let out a loud sob, clutching his body as the tears fell and they kept falling. They didn’t stop falling and he wished he could just drown in them.  


They soaked the jumper that Murdoc had given him, the only untorn item of clothing in his room. It still smelt of Murdoc and 2-D wasn’t sure if he hated it or liked it. It made him feel like Murdoc was with him. He was so lonely that having Murdoc’s company would probably lift his spirits in a fucked up way. He wiped the sleeve over his eyes and nose, he was too tired to get up and get some tissue, to wipe the tears away.  


In these short, lonely moments the whale had come back around the island and was eyeing up 2-D again. It blinked once, calling out that lonely call once again.  


“GO AWAY!” 2-D screamed, his voice breaking as he smashed a fist into the window, his knuckles popping and the skin breaking upon impact. The whale shifted from the window and disappeared into the deep blue, but 2-D could still see his dark shape in the distance.  


While studying his bleeding knuckles he pulled the blinds shut and stood up shakily. The blood dripped slowly down his arm as he kept watching, the blood red and slick and the same colour as the singer’s nightmare. He pressed a finger into the wound, eliciting a sharp intake of breath and more blood. He removed the finger and watched as the blood dripped and stained his skin.  


The whale moaned again.  


He cried again.  


With the blood painted on his finger he stumbled across to an empty space on his bedroom wall where he began to write.  


The island shook and groaned and the ocean became darker and darker. 2-D stumbled, his dripping finger drawing a shaky line down the wall as he slunk back onto his backside to study the masterpiece he had created.  


You're by my side but are you still with me?  
The answers somewhere deep in it  
And sorry that you're feeling it  


Slowly his eyes fell shut as his body grew limp and weak.  


Are you still with me?  


The whale moaned again.  


The door opened.  


The cyborg stood there, watching him, her head tilted as she whirred furiously before turning back.  


And then there was a flash of green and a pair of deep black eyes.  


And then he was hoisted up and carried away. His vision faded.  


\--  


When he came round he was greeted by the brightest room on this planet. His eyes seared from the sight and he tightly scrunched them closed again. A long groan left his lips as he lifted a hand to massage his forehead, only to realise it was thickly bandaged and hurting a bit.  


As he shuffled in the bed he felt something let go of his other hand and small sigh.  


“I seriously don’t understand what is wrong with you Dents” A drawling tone spoke and the singer cracked his eyes open again, looking at Murdoc who sat beside him. The bags under the bassist’s eyes were deeper and darker than they had ever been before as 2-D studied him.  


“M..Murdoc?” The singer whispered, half expecting the image in front of him to suddenly disappear.  


“Yes Face-ache, it’s me, I’m here” The green-skinned man flicked 2-D’s forehead and the singer cried out in pain. Murdoc chuckled, “You’re a fragile one still aren’t ya” and he took 2-D’s hand again.  


“I…I missed you Muds… It’s so lonely down there; I thought I was going to be alone forever!” 2-D cried, tears dripping down his cheeks. In reality it had only been a couple days where Murdoc hadn’t shown his face.  


But Murdoc always watches.  


Just like the whale.  


Murdoc had done this to bend the singer to his will. Starve him. Isolate him. And he’ll do anything you want him to do.  


“Well, I’m here now aren’t I?” Murdoc spoke softly and he ran a hand through the singer’s hair who welcomed the gesture with a low hum. A sick smile was painted on the bassists face.  


Not long now he thought.  


“I’m sorry…” 2-D began, lifting his bandaged hand. “My minds been fucked… are you… are you still my friend muds?”  


The smile on Murdoc’s face grew a bit.  


The island shook.  


2-D could swear he heard gunshots.  


“Yes, of course” Murdoc whispered, his lips close to 2-D’s ear. “Now don’t go punching things like that again”  


2D smiled. The tears kept falling however.  


Even when he was with someone… with Murdoc… He still felt alone.  


Alone, just like the whale.


	3. Chapter 3

The Island shook gently as a storm rolled its way through. The waves large and crashing, stirring up the putrid rubbish, pushing it further inland or dragging it back out to sea. The trees shook and swayed with the wind, their trunks threatening to snap like twigs in front of the grey/black backdrop of swirling clouds and lightning strikes.

The lighthouse shuddered with the island, its light flickering softly before resuming its normal spin. The cyborg was illuminated in the light as she watched intently out to sea and then out over the island, watching, waiting for anything that could pose a threat to the island and its two lonely inhabitants. 

He stood swaying slightly, his hands clutching onto the door frame as the island took on a massive wave. His head pounded like the rain outside and he clutched it in pain as he carried on stumbling into the studio. A red scar etched over the knuckles of his other hand and he itched it absentmindedly as he took a seat and fished out a pill packet from his jean pocket before taking a few dry. 

The lights flickered relentlessly as the power threatened to give out at any moment. They were vulnerable right now, to pirates, to sinking… anything. 

The room lurched and he almost lost his seating but managed to stay put. A keyboard was sat in front of him, with a notebook on the left hand side and plate of sandwiches on the right hand side. The plate slid deftly over the table back and forth in time with the sways of the island and he grabbed for the sandwich, taking a massive bite before putting it down again when he noticed a note hidden underneath it. 

_“I’ve left you some lyrics; try your best to come up with something. I’m out on a supply run right now, we were running out of food and you seemed to be running out of pills, try not to take too many – oh and I’m also getting you some new clothes so be thankful. Anyways, I expect at least 2 songs to be done by the time I get back, which should be around 3 days hopefully, but there is a storm rolling in so who knows. If you need anything, Noodle is about watching the island. Go to the utilities closet upstairs and there should be a panel there, there should be a green button about halfway down and she should come to you on the press of that button. DO NOT PRESS ANYTHING ELSE OR THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES, AND DO NOT FUCKING GO IN MY ROOM,_

_Yours truly,_

_Murdoc Niccals”_

__He studied the note over a few more times; waiting for his brain to make sense of it before sighing softly and placing it back down. He finished the rest of the sandwich and left out a content sigh of not feeling hungry anymore._ _

__But now he was thirsty, and Murdoc had only left a bottle of rum for him._ _

__The island shook again._ _

__The thunder racked through the building and the lights flickered._ _

__He stood up shakily, fearing the lurching of the room would knock him down and he did not want to hit his head at all. So, slowly, but surely he made his way back out the studio and down the hallway. The kitchen was in view and he crossed the threshold with a gulp, his eyes staring at the seat where Murdoc had force fed him more than once. But luckily, the room was still clean and tidy. It seemed like Murdoc never really ate._ _

__He ambled towards one of the cupboards and pulled out a glass that glinted in the artificial light, quickly having to grab onto the counter as the storm sent up a large wave, sending the island into a fit of shakes. He shuffled across to the sink, still holding onto the counter for support as he placed his glass under the facet and turned on the cold water._ _

__If only water actually came out._ _

__With an annoyed grunt he twisted the tap shut and slammed the glass down, the noise sending a shockwave through his head, but as soon as he let go of the glass the relentless rocking of the island caused it to slide off the counter and smash into a pile of glinting shards on the floor._ _

__“Oh f’ fucks sake” He grunted, running a hand through his blue hair, tugging slightly at the roots._ _

__Murdoc would probably end his life for doing that._ _

__But Murdoc wasn’t here at the moment._ _

__The sound of whirring caught his hearing and he swivelled on his feet his eyes meeting the cyborg that stood in the doorway. Her hair soaked through and various plugs and ports sparking furiously._ _

__“Mr Niccals, has as-as-as-ked that I look-ook after you” Her voice sounded like a skipping record player, nothing like the real Noodle’s._ _

__He was slightly taken aback; Murdoc must’ve upgraded her because he was pretty sure she couldn’t talk at all before._ _

__“Um… Hi, nice to meet you… I guess” He bit his lip and stuck out a hand for her to shake but quickly pulled it back when the motion caused her to reach for the gun slung on her back._ _

__“What-what-what would you like-like-ke-ke to be called?” She stuttered out. The grip on her gun never lightened._ _

__“You can… er… call me 2D, I guess” He spoke quietly, watching as the drips from her hair aggravated the electrics within her._ _

__“2-2-2-2-2”_ _

__Smoke started billowing out of one of her joints and panic rose within him._ _

__“2-2-2-2-Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”_ _

__“You could just call me Dee” He smiled, talking quickly in the hopes it’ll stop her from having a meltdown “If it’s easier for you?”_ _

__A small smile appeared on the cyborgs face as she twitched slightly. Small canisters of fire retardant burst in her smoking joint, ceasing the small flame and smoke. Murdoc was smart enough to build a fire extinguishing system within her._ _

__“Deee-ee-e-e”_ _

__“Yeah jus’ like that!” He chuckled as he reached for a tea towel. “Hey, would you mind if… I try to dry your hair… it seems to be making you worse?”_ _

__The cyborg clutched her gun again and the taller man approached, the towel outstretched._ _

__“You can’t kill me… because… Mr Niccals… needs me for the album... he needs me voice” He spoke evenly, even with his accent as he gently placed the towel on the cyborgs head. He began to dry the area, at least until it wasn’t dripping into her circuits and wires anymore._ _

__“Tha-thank-k-k-k you Dee-ee” She gave that same sick smile again as she turned on her heel and began to walk down the hallway. 2D glanced back at the broken glass quickly before jogging after her. She approached the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, where Murdoc’s bedroom was._ _

__The elevator dinged and she walked in._ _

__The Island shook and the thunder grew worse._ _

__He ran in beside her as the doors began to close._ _


	4. Chapter 4

The elevator shuddered into life when the Cyborg selected the top most floors. The lights flickered and the room shook suddenly as he felt that familiar drop in his stomach when the lift stopped and the doors quivered and opened to a very dark landing. She left the lift and plunged herself into the darkness, only illuminated by the random lightning flashes shining through the broad glass windows.

He stumbled out of the lift after her in a quick pace, his long legs catching up in no time. Outside the storm roared with anger and the rain pummelled against the glass. A lighting strike illuminated the drops across his gaunt features as he hurried after the Cyborg.

She came to a stop outside a room with a large metal door. It had what looked like dents all over it, but they seemed to have come from the inside. He gulped and clasped his hands together in apprehension and another strike glinted off his dark eyes. The Cyborg pulled the heavy door open with a loud thunk and an almost creepy squeak of the hinges, and then she entered.

The room smelt unusual and it caused fear to rise within the tall singer. He glanced around at the mess of cables and boxes on the ground, a pile of nuts and bolts over there, a random hammer over here. Broken glass and what looked like oil was spilt everywhere.

But that smell was suddenly getting horrendous. It smelt metallic, like blood.

He brought a hand up to his mouth, biting down on what was left of his nails in a way to somehow get rid of his anxiety. The Cyborg paid no attention but scrambled across the room to a set of wires handing from some racking on the ceiling. She picked up one of the cables, it was thick and actually made up of loads of different wires all bundled together. She studied it for a second before brushing her hair away from her neck and plugging it into a port that was hiding there.

The Island trembled as a wave crashed into it.

The Cyborg’s eyes caught the singers as she found another cable, this time thinner and it seemed to be dripping a dark tinted fluid, only to then plug it into the side of her neck.

“Re-charge-ge” She spoke, her electronic voice faltering slightly and her gears whirred furiously. 2D nodded and traversed the messy floor towards her. She casted him a snarl and she reached for her gun but 2D stuck his hands out to show he wasn’t a threat.

“Let me help?” He spouted quickly, worried he might be shot. The Cyborg whirred and clicked and she gave a jagged nod and let go of her gun. He tip-toed around her and began to plug various wires and cables into her back and arms. Some dripped fluid onto him that irritated his skin slightly and one dripped a worryingly red substance down his front. He sucked in a breath and willed himself not to panic or to pass out. He didn’t want to know what, no HOW, Murdoc had created this being.

“De-ee” She chattered as he plugged the last of the cables in. She smiled again, but it was that same sinister, creepy smile.

He swallowed thickly.

The Island shook.

The thunder started growing distant.

“I will charge n-n-now. Remaining time, 2-2-2-2 hours and 25 minutes” Her voice skipped and jumped and crackled and her eyes slowly shut and her body became limp.

He stood there watching for the next 5 minutes, unsure as to what to do.

With a twiddle of his thumbs and a sigh he began to exit the room, noticing a small wall panel near the door. It was exactly the one Murdoc had described in his note. 2D made a mental note to remember it was here. But now that she was charging for the next 2 hours he was alone and without protection.

Fingers crossed they didn’t get attacked.

As he walked back out onto the landing he noticed how large the windows were and the fact the storm was beginning to die down. Out on the horizon the lighting still struck down and the waves looked choppy and rough. The light of a rising sun could be seen peeking from behind the black clouds. The world out there looked apocalyptic in that moment.

A lone ship streaked the horizon. If only it was closer, he could attempt an escape then.

But that whale was watching him, even up here.

He didn’t stand a chance.

And as if on cue, that very same whale breached the surface in an elegant display before crashing back down into the dark water. 2D flinched and walked away from the window, he didn’t want to think about that whale. Instead his attention was caught by a large doorway leading into a massive bedroom. In the middle was a huge bed covered in silk sheets and pillows and it looks extremely nice compared to his shitty little bed down in the basement.

So as if on autopilot he entered and stood before the comfortable bed. A skinny hand reached out and he stroked the sheets.

So soft.

He craved this comfort so much.

Everything had been hard and horrible and cold and damp.

But this? This was like finding a gold mine.

And without thinking he flopped down onto it and pulled the sheets over his body and snuggled into the pillow.

A deep breath, it smelled like Murdoc.

Not the bad Murdoc smell, the one of vomit and sex and metal and god knows what else, but the Murdoc that was clean, musky, and minty with cigarettes and the smell of sweet rum. He shut his eyes and stayed like that for a few moments, soaking up the warmth and comfort. It felt like Murdoc was with him there and then.

He wasn’t alone now.

He wasn’t alone.

The Island trembled softly, the seas becoming calm and the morning light beginning to shine through.

_\--  
He opened his eyes and he was at a table with a bowl of cereal sat in front of him. A woman pottered around the kitchen cooking bacon and eggs as a man sat down in front of him.   
“Good morning, son!” The man’s voice sounded out but he could not see his face. He took in a spoonful of cereal and nodded.   
“Stuart are you okay?” The woman’s voice echoed and he couldn’t see her face either.   
“Mum?... Dad?” He spoke, his voice higher than normal. He studied their faces, blurred out, no features to be seen.   
“What is it son?” The man spoke, his dad. His mother dropped some bacon onto his plate.  
“I… don’t know…” He felt tears well in his eyes.   
Suddenly, he was shoved backwards, and his sight became dark, crosshatched with lighting and the sound of thunder in his head. He felt weightless and free, like a bird, flying away.   
But then his body crumpled to the floor.   
And then he woke up in a white room with men and women in white coats putting things into his arms and wrapping a thick bandage around his head.   
Then it was dark again and he seemed to wake up standing in front of a mirror, his blue eyes watching back at him. His head was bald, he had no eyebrows or eyelashes and he remembers crying all night thinking he was ugly and that no one would love him anymore without any hair.   
But then, after a few weeks the first tuft of hair came through.   
A bright, azure blue.  
He could hear a sinister cackle.  
Murdoc appeared by his shoulder, the grip firm again.  
“A blue-haired, black eyed god”  
He felt hot lips against his neck and those sharp teeth grazed the skin ever so gently.  
\-- _  
__

“DeEEeee”

The man shot up with scream, pushing away the thing In front of him but as soon as he made contact she whipped around, grabbing him by the arm and flipping him onto his front, the arm twisted behind his back and a knee pressed into him. He let out a whimper from the pain, tears falling and soaking into the sheets below.

“DeeEEEEE” Her voice crackled and he felt the pressure lighten. “Are-re-re you okay-y-y”

He sniffled into the sheets, taking in the last scent of Murdoc before he was suddenly pulled to his feet. He wiped the tears away with the sleeves of the jumper Murdoc had given him and with a quick nod he left the room.

He was confused.

His heart ached for Murdoc, yet Murdoc hurt him all the time.

He clutched his hands to his head, pulling at the roots of his hair before letting out a loud scream as he entered the lift. The doors shutting as Cyborg was walking down the landing, a worried look on her emotionless face.

“What do I do….?”

The island swayed gently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you want more fucked up Murdoc stuff


	5. Chapter 5

Music flowed from the studio, the sound of piano and the drum machine and the Cyborg played her guitar while 2D flew around the room, adjusting volumes and sounds before diving into the audio booth just in time for his singing part. Once the recording was done, he made a mental note to get Murdoc to finish it off with his bass and then that would be 3 songs complete.

With a shaky sigh he let go of the microphone, his brow covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his voice sore from singing for the last 3 days. He took a swig from his 2nd bottle of rum, the alcohol swimming in his head as he shut off the machines and grabbed for Murdoc’s Lyric book. He ticked off yet another song. A few still remained but he really needed Murdoc there to get the best sound. So he chose to wait for the Bassist to return. 

In the meantime, he had begun making a radio system down in his room. After the many hours of singing and playing piano he would make food from the scraps that were left for dinner and make sure Cyborg was on charge before running to the elevator, or down the stairs depends how much energy he had at the time to tinker with his little system that was hidden under his bed. 

It was his ticket out of this horrible place. 

He sat on the floor, his legs sprawled out and the machine between them as he fumbled over pliers and screwdrivers, adjusting, adjusting, adjusting until it came to life. He flicked over the channels hearing different ships, planes, whatever, trying to determine who was safe and who wasn’t. 

A distress call could be heard as he skipped over the channel, only to go back to it. 

“If anyone can hear us, we are under attack!” 

“We have women and children aboard! Anyone! Please!” 

The sound of gunshots echoed over the receiver and the line went dead. He felt a pang of guilt in the stomach from not being able to help. He hoped not too many people were injured. 

As he flicked over the channels yet again, he came across a familiar voice, Gravelly and unmistakably English. 

“Thank you for listening to Pirate Radio! It’s been a fun trip; I will be broadcasting again at the usual times from before my sweet little excursion… I hope 2D doesn’t mind joining soon, he’s been really good lately” 

The speaker crackled. 

“I got a soft spot for him I do” 

The whale moaned outside and 2-D Jumped up to pull the curtains shut. 

“Anyways, I’ll be back soon!” 

The transmission went quiet. 

From what he could understand, this meant Murdoc should be home soon, but he also couldn’t shake the comment about himself. Murdoc has a soft spot for him. The thought made his heart leap in his chest. But it was short lived when he frowned at himself for letting those stupid feelings get to him. It was getting late, and Murdoc will be home probably by tomorrow, so this was his chance to try to get away from this hellish place. 

“Hello… Is there anyone out there?” He broadcasted. 

Silence. 

The whale moaned again, a low pitched noise, all drawn out and sad. 

2D sighed. He began to push himself up when he heard soft singing coming over the radio, he grinned and plonked back down. 

“Hello? Hello?” 2-D spoke in a desperate hushed tone, knowing Cyborg could well be fully charged by this point, the singing continued, it never stopped. 

“Talk to me!” He was practically screaming down the microphone, his knuckles going white with the grip he held. 

“Please!” 

The transmission ceased. 

“For Fucks sake” He shouted, throwing the microphone down and shoving the machine underneath his bed. With a disgruntled noise he stood up, kicking away the screwdrivers and various other tools before angrily pulling his jeans from his body so he was dressed in just his boxers and tank top. He ran a hand through his hair, it was feeling greasy and dirty, about time he had a shower. But the thought of showering in that cold shower put him off. Maybe he could sneak upstairs to the guest shower and use that. Cyborg wouldn’t hurt him for that one little thing would she? 

She appeared at the door then, furiously whirring and clicking as she stomped into the room directly towards his bed, pushing past him on the way. She bent down, reaching under the bed and in quick succession pulled the radio out. 

He ran over to her, trying to stop her from taking it away. He had spent so long on it. But a swift elbow to his stomach had him on the floor in a fit of pain. Another bruise to add to the collection he thought to himself miserably. 

“What is this?” She asked. 2-D regretted upgrading her speech now; she sounded too similar to the real noodle. Fire blazed in her eyes as she picked up the machine and looked down at the winded 2-D. 

“It’s nufink, just a thing I was buildin’” He tried to reason, pushing himself up, wincing in pain as he did so. She whirred again, her arm twitched slightly as she studied the machine over. 

“I was watching you” She hissed. “I can see everything you do… you know that?” 

She pointed her gun towards the camera that was in the corner of his bedroom. Fuck. He had forgotten. 

“It has an audio feed” She watched him over, her stare causing him to look down at his feet as he fumbled with his hands and bit his lip. 

“I’m… Sorry… Don’t tell Murdoc please!” He spoke up, begging her, his eyes had a pleading look. She sighed, dropping the machine as a part of it snapped. Then she pulled her gun around and aimed at it. One shot and the thing was shattered. 

“I must always report to Mr Niccals” She seemed to sound sad for a moment. 

“Even if I didn’t, he would find out. He checks the recordings” 

“I’m sorry, Dee” She turned on her heel and began to leave the room before stopping and looking back at the singer. She opened her mouth to say something, but instead she left the room to patrol the building. 

2-D shook where he stood. Murdoc is going to know and Murdoc is going to punish him badly for this. A beating? Starvation? Isolation? Who knows what it could be this time… but he knew it was going to hurt and fuck him up even more. He twiddled his fingers together, willing himself to not cry, to not break down. Instead he just scooped up the obliterated machine and dumped it all into a bag. He’ll have to either throw it out or use the bits for his synths. He wasn’t too sure yet. 

That’s if he survived. 

The whale sung outside his window. 

He reached over to peak out the curtains. He was met with that eye and he shuddered. 

He grabbed for his rum, whatever was left of it actually, and downed it, and then he decided sleep would be the best option now and await his fate. So he climbed into his bed, pulled the covers up over his head and tried to relax himself just enough to fall asleep. 

With the help of the alcohol invading his thoughts it surprisingly didn’t take too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that first transmission was indeed the ship that we see Noodle on in the melancholy hill video so yes noods and russ will be in this at some point.  
> Also the person 2D was trying to contact was that singer Daley? from the doncamatic video.   
> And I changed up a bit of Muds pirate radio to fit the story. 
> 
> Hope you liked it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for sort of assault, extremely dubious consent. (There's no smut, but yeah.)

“Anyways I’ll be back soon!” He announced his voice proud and loud. Then with deft hands he flicked a few switches and cut his transmission to the outer world. With a satisfied smile painted on his lips he lent back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head. A soft sigh left his lips as he gazed out into the deep blue for a few moments, watching the evening sunlight refract and dance across the controls of his submarine. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a rather squished packet of cigarettes and swiftly pulling the last one out. He popped it between his lips and lit it from one of his matches then took a deep inhale of the smoke.

“I best get back then” He muttered, the cigarette dancing between his lips and with a quick side glance towards the back of his sub to make sure all his supplies were there before leaving. Boxes of clothes and medication for 2D alongside a box filled to the brim with cigarettes and cigars, a crate of various vodka, rum and whiskey, another large box filled with fresh food and ingredients and not to forget a special suitcase that he crinkled his eyes at. That suitcase contained the magic. 

With a soft chuckle and a quick ash of his cigarette he gripped the controls and surged forwards, the submarine shuddering as it came to life, flying through the deep blue. Plastic Beach was about 6 hours away; hopefully 2D was going to be excited to see him after those few days he was away. Hopefully he had been good and done what the older man had asked of him. 

\-- 

The singer cracked his eyes open slowly, his room dark and feeling damper than usual. A slow shiver crawled upon his skin as he clutched the blankets closer to his body. It must have been sometime in the early morning, maybe 3am or so when he heard the sound of banging from upstairs, a clunk here and there, the sound of shuffling and something being dragged along the floor. With an annoyed groan he threw the blankets off and wobbled as he stood up, his head swimming with alcohol still and the threat of an oncoming headache shadowed his every move. 

He yawned, taking a few steps towards his bedroom door as his eyes sparked with white spots. He was still determined to find out what the noise was however so he rubbed his eyes with his hands and fumbled out into the hallway towards the elevator. 

Another bang from upstairs startled him and he gripped his fingers together and bit his lip, deciding the lift would make too much noise if the thing upstairs was in fact an intruder or pirate or something dangerous. So he shuffled towards the stairs, the quieter option. 

As he slowly ascended towards the upper levels of the Island the noise became louder and he could even hear the sound of someone grunting and cursing under their breath. 2-D couldn’t make out the voice though, so with wide eyes full of fear he snuck out onto the upper hallway, noticing a few crates and boxes lying around. The kitchen light was on and he could see a shadow moving about within. He also noticed smoke drifting out, smelling of tobacco and he swore to god he could die for a cigarette right now. 

Then suddenly the other man exited the kitchen, cigarette hanging loosely between his lips, clutching a suitcase with a padlock on it. His dark eyes met 2-D’s and a sly smile grew on his face. 

“Well hello there!” Murdoc drawled, obviously drunk. He set the suitcase down and took a drag on the cigarette before walking over to the frozen singer. With open arms he pulled the taller man into a hug and chuckled through his cigarette before removing it and handing it to 2-D who took it on autopilot. 

“Not very talkative huh?” Murdoc growled, but it wasn’t an aggressive growl. He let his hands rest on the singer’s shoulders momentarily. 

“Voice is sore” 2-D croaked, jerking a thumb to his throat where Murdoc hungrily stared, “Thanks for the ciggy, Muds” The singer cracked a half smile, finishing up the cigarette and letting it drop to the floor where Murdoc stomped on it. They locked eye contact for a short moment before Murdoc clapped his hands and turned on heel to locate something. 2-D shuffled after him awkwardly, feeling wary of what’s instore and by the looks of it Cyborg hadn’t told the Bassist yet about his plan of escape. 

“This is what I managed to get for you, I hope they fit” Murdoc gestured to a box filled to the brim with clothes. Jeans and t-shirts, the odd pair of boots and a bunch of boxers, also a surprising amount of tank tops. The Bassist turned to look at 2-D who watched with no emotion on his face as he slowly reached out to grab a denim jacket. He studied it carefully before slipping it on, just the right size, if not a little bit baggy, but the singer liked it. 

When a horrendously long amount of time had passed Murdoc gave an annoyed noise and with quick succession had the singer pushed up against the wall before he could react. With an arm placed over 2D’s throat and the rest of the Bassist’s body weight pinning the skinny guy down. 

“You are so ungrateful” Murdoc hissed, his face in the singers face, their noses almost touching. 2-D winced at the alcoholic breath, giving a strangled cry. 

“M..Murdoc please, I’m sorry, I mean… thank you! Thank you for the clothes Murdoc!” Tears welled in his eyes as Murdoc’s stare crushed him. He tried to push away feebly but Murdoc was too strong for his weakened state. 

“You better be” Murdoc spat, his eyes never breaking contact and with a quick smirk he deftly licked up the side of 2-D’s cheek, who, in return, gave a yelp and struggled some more. Murdoc, deciding he liked the reaction, chose to do it again. This time his tongue lingered on the singers neck, hot and wet as it glided up and down. 2-D shuddered some more, barely even creating coherent words as he tried to push the Bassist’s away. 

Murdoc chuckled, withdrawing his tongue to look the singer in the eyes, he was met with the deep dark pits, glossy with tears and fear. Then, in a bout of confidence the green skinned man decided to bite down onto the pale flesh of the singer’s neck. It was still wet with saliva when he sucked strongly, his teeth threatening to break the skin. The singer cried out, tears falling freely down his cheeks as he tried to use the last of his strength to over throw the Bassists. 

When Murdoc was satisfied he removed his mouth and let go of the singers frame swiftly. 2-D was panting softly as he immediately brought a hand to his neck, feeling the area for damage. When he removed his hand, seeing no blood he sighed in relief. 

Murdoc watched with a sick smile on his face and just as quick as before he delivered a strong punch to the singer’s abdomen, causing 2-D to crumple to the floor with a scream as he clutched onto his stomach. Murdoc walked away, leaving him there to wallow in his own tears. 

\-- 

2-D had been sat in the studio for roughly 2 hours now. He was experimenting with different sounds on the synth he had balanced tediously on his lap. Murdoc sat on a stool opposite him with his bass cradled in his arms as he plucked the strings carefully, creating those beautifully deep sounds. He had his head cocked downwards, his eyes watching where to place his fingers. They had managed to complete some more of the new album together this time – it had been roughly 4 days since Murdoc had come back from his supply run. 

4 days of headaches for 2-D. You see Murdoc had also found out about the radio from Cyborg, which he wasn’t too pleased about. 2-D had expected a beating or two for it, but no, Murdoc was surprisingly calm. It was then when 2-D ran out of pain killers he knew what his punishment was. 

The deep sounds from the bass danced inside his skull and he wearily watched Murdoc, too scared to ask for his meds again in fear he’d get a slap, or a punch, or worse… His had rubbed the spot on his neck, still sore from when it happened. Luckily it had faded to a dull brown now, you could barely see it. 

Thing is though. He actually liked it. 

In his own sick and fucked up way he secretly wanted more. 

But it was those other thoughts that kept him grounded. Murdoc only wanted to use him, to hurt him. Murdoc would never love him. 

He ran a hand through his hair; rubbing in soft circles, trying to massage out the migraine that borderline blinded him. Drinking the alcohol had helped to an extent, but he really needed those meds. The sounds suddenly stopped and 2-D caught Murdoc’s stare, emotionless. 

Then Murdoc put his bass back on the stand and stood up to walk over to the singer. 2-D’s first response was to cover his face with his arms; a soft whimper escaped his lips. But Murdoc took his hands and removed them slowly, watching the singers face as he did so. 2-D’s bottom lip quivered so he bit down onto it gently, watching with wide eyes as Murdoc slowly ran his long nailed fingers through the bright blue hair. He rubbed gently and sometimes in small circles, it was when 2-D let out a soft gasp he stopped and smirk creeping onto his face. 

2-D leant into the warmth from the Bassists hands, feeling comfort from his migraine. When he let out a soft gasp he held his breath as Murdoc stopped, fearing his personality could change at any moment. 

“Hey” Murdoc whispered, still massaging the singers scalp. 2-D hummed in response, almost falling asleep. 

“Did you want to go outside?” 

2-D perked up, peeking up at Murdoc as the green man looked down at him with those deep eyes. You see he hadn’t been outside once since he was kidnapped and brought here. The thought of feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin and smell of the salty sea air brought his spirits up. 

“Yes please Murdoc” The singer mumbled as he leant forward, his forehead resting on Murdoc’s stomach. He felt a sudden tug at the roots of his hair. 

“I didn’t hear you there, Dents” Murdoc smiled down at him. 2-D shuffled back and looked him in his eyes. 

“Yeah... it would be fun! Please, Murdoc” 

He was suddenly pulled up to his feet, having to grab for his synth before it clattered to the ground. The quick movement caused his head to swim in pain and he clutched onto Murdoc for support, letting out a small cry of pain as he did so. Murdoc wrapped an arm around the singer and reached into his back pocket with the other hand. He pulled out a small packet and handed it to 2-D whose face almost glowed as bright as the sun from seeing it. 

“Thank you, Murdoc” He smiled, taking the packet of pills and popping 2 out and taking them dry. It would be a while before they began to work but he was nevertheless grateful. Murdoc chuckled softly and began to wheel the singer out the studio and down the hallway, past the elevator and kitchen to a large metal door with a million dead bolts on it. There was a small keypad with a finger print scanner and he pressed his index finger of his free hand onto it and as if by magic all the bolts undid themselves and a wave of bright sunlight flooded into the building. 2-D winced at the sudden bright light but the feeling of the sun on his skin was almost enough to revive him and he perked up immediately. 

He stepped forwards into the light, his bare feet feeling the fake scratchy grass and the fresh scent of salty air invaded his nose. He hummed contently and turned to look at Murdoc, a big smile on both their faces. He reached to take Murdoc’s hand in his own and pull the Bassist out into the hot sunshine. 

“One moment dents, just need to grab something” He laughed, pulling his hand from the singers and quickly disappearing back into the building. 2-D stood awkwardly for a few moments, unsure as to move or not, but his curiosity got the better of him and he found himself walking down a small set of grassy steps onto a nice open area bathed in sunlight. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and out in the distance a small ship traced the horizon. 

He pocketed the pill packet in the back pocket of his jeans and rolled up the legs to almost his knees. He shed his tank top, glancing down at the various bruises that littered his body, some old, some new. And with a shrug he plonked himself down onto the grass, resting back onto his elbows. 

Murdoc appeared at the entrance, a crate in his arms as he jogged down the steps, he too had no shirt on and wore his usual boots and black jeans. His cross glinted harshly in the sunlight and he crossed the grass towards 2-D. He set the crate down and sat himself down next to the singer. 

“This is so nice” 2-D smiled, his eyes squinting in the bright light. Murdoc pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his back pocket and handed one to 2-D, while he lit his with a match. He put the cig in his mouth, taking a puff and gesturing for 2-D to come closer. 2-D did so, the cig hanging out of his mouth as they pressed the two ends together, lighting the others quickly. 

“Yeah, I’m not much of a sun person to be honest… I prefer the fake sunlight from tanning beds” Murdoc chuckled puffing on his ciggy as he reached forward to the crate, handing 2-D a vodka bottle while he himself took a rum bottle. He dug in further, pulling out a small container filled with some pasta dish and two forks. 

“Did you make that, Muds?” 2-D spoke through his ciggy, gesturing to the container. Murdoc nodded with a grunt. “It looks good!” 

Murdoc grunted again, pulling the lid off the container and jammed his fork into it, pulling out a bit with a nice piece of chicken. He popped it in his mouth and chewed slowly before smiling a little to himself. 

“My dad never cooked a lot… it was usually always up to me to do it, so I learnt pretty quickly” Murdoc glanced up at the blue sky, almost as blue as 2-D’s hair, as if he was remembering those memories like they were yesterday. He then handed the other fork to 2-D, willing the singer to tuck in. 

“You never cooked a lot when we were at Kong, though…” 2-D muttered, grabbing for the fork and taking a big bite. “Wow, its good” 

“That’s because I knew Russel would do it all, he has a keen eye for cuisine” 

“Yeah… I miss those burgers he would hand make” 2-D spoke with his mouth full so he quickly swallowed and then finished up his cigarette, stubbing it out on the fake grass. 

“I honestly don’t know where I went wrong to be honest” Murdoc suddenly blurted, cursing to himself for letting his feelings fall through. 

“What do you mean, Muds?” 2-D murmured, taking another mouthful of pasta. Murdoc sighed loudly, reaching for his bottle of rum. 

“Things were great at Kong” He opened the bottle and took a few gulps, ignoring the burning of his throat. “And then the shit with Noodle happened…” He stared at the golden liquid in his bottle and swirled it sadly. 2-D felt sadness rise within the other man as he reached for his own bottle of alcohol. 

“Let’s drink to her” 2-D smiled. Clanking his bottle on Murdoc’s and taking a long swig. 

Out in the distance the whale breached. 

Out in the distance was a man who never stopped searching. 

Out in the distance somewhere was a girl trying to survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So some of the lore around plastic beach and phase 2 is a bit weird so I'm a little bit of canon divergence.   
> Also I love writing murdoc being okay one minute and then horrible the next.   
> Also ive never written someone with Stockholm syndrome so im probably doing a really bad job at it.


End file.
